The spectacle, with all the somber aspects of war, softened by the distance, was inspiring.

Harry drew a long breath and then another.

It was in truth more like a spectacle than war's actuality.

He counted five colonial houses, white and pillared, standing among green trees and shrubbery.

Smoke was rising from their chimneys, as if the people who lived in them were going about their peaceful occupations.
He turned back into the forest, and rode until he came to its end, two or three miles further on.